The following story tells the tale of a true life transformation. The Saga is one of self discovery, and of sexual and physical growth in a shocking, yet erotic world of bodybuilding. I welcome your comments and opinions as long as they are supportive and positive.
Chapter I: A Lifeless Identity...
It was a terrible divorce that left me ruined, and bankrupt. At 32 years of age, I was, for the first time in my life, out to fend for myself in this cruel, empty world. My ex-husband and I were married at an early age after High School when love and romance seemed to be the only two things regarding my adolescent intellect. It seemed like the right thing to do; having someone care for you day in and day out. Yet with maturity and wisdom now in my reasoning, that old-fashioned notion was nothing more than a silly girl's dream.
I never considered myself attractive, or desirable to anyone's discerning eye. I felt wanted at the onset of my doomed marriage when sex was all that we could experience. Yet after time, that in itself seemed monotonous after a while. The typical act of intercourse was becoming an agreeable task to say the least. What was left of any desire or lust simply got washed away in the sands of time. I felt cheated in several ways considering how deeply emotional I was. As a young woman, my dreams consisted of sweeping passion and desire being the only constant in my life... a lifelong impulse to reveal genuine love in every manner possible.
After our separation, I was forced to relocate to a one bedroom apartment outside the city. The divorce decree left me little to live on, and before long, I was calling my trustworthy Mother for help. It broke my heart me to ask her for money, yet her tender sympathy for my recent break-up inspired her to support me until I could get back on my feet. Luckily, I had no children or large amounts of debt to contend with. I suppose in that respect, I was indeed fortunate. She truly made every effort to ensure my survival; stopping by occasionally to make me dinner, clean my place up, and take care of her only child. She knew all too well the heartbreaking pains of a divorce. Dad left her when I was five years old, and since then, it was just her and I. We had a deeply trusting relationship, and now that her child was licking the wounds of divorce, she faithfully made sure that I was okay. She spent vast amounts of money to properly guarantee that I was okay. One day, I came home to find that she had spent over $2000 on a new computer for me. Several CD's of resume programs and job related software kits were suggestively placed all around the new system, so I promptly made sure they would be put to good use.
Three months after my divorce was final, things were still looking quite grim for me. Still unemployed, my days were consisting of watching television, and eating a lot of garbage that added at least 20 pounds to my already healthy frame. I just didn't care anymore. Soon I began drinking and smoking (what used to be just for kicks in school), and the days eventually began to haze together in a misty state of existence. None of my resumes seemed to attract any employers, so that fact only fueled my barren state of mind even more. Even looking into the mirror depressed me to no end. My once curvy figure was now weighed down with a portly stomach and cottage cheese hips. Remembering back to the days of cheer leading and college life, it saddened me to know that my 38-24-36 busty frame was now expanding day by day. My long blonde hair that seemed to glisten in the light now bore a dull, brownish hue that I was sickened to even glance at. My ex used to love my voluptuous body, or so he said. And I kept that figure as best as I could until he left me... now it was worthless. No more the seductive body of eroticism and fondness. I felt terrible.
Was this the prelude to my demise? Was this to be the result of merely wanting to be with the one you thought you loved? What ever happened to 'until death do us part?'
Spring was upon me, and my days typically started around 3 or 4pm as I crawled out of bed. Stumbling to my coffee maker, I could feel the warmth of the outside sun casting a warm glow upon me. The temporary hint of promise quickly vanished as I lazily shuffled back into the den, and sat down at my disheveled desk to figure out how much I needed to ask from Mother for another month. Staring at the heap of bills in front of me, I realized that I needed a calculator to add up the amounts, and since there was no pocket sized calculator handy, I switched on my new computer. I had at best maybe turned on this system once of twice in the past two months, and I felt terrible that Mother had spent so much on this since I never put it to use. Quickly locating the calculator, I called up the screen to use it. As it was coming up, I noticed an icon on my desktop that featured free internet service. Never really interested in the internet, the thought for some reason appealed to me on this day. Perhaps I could find an old friend from school? Or maybe find a job? Two clicks later, I was signed on, and plunged into a completely new world of digital initiation.
Needless to say, it was a most welcome breath of fresh air. I was familiar with the usage and language of computers from my previous job, yet I soon realized that I had a lot to learn. I quickly sat up, intrigued by all that was possible out there. Soon, I was calling up web sites that held my interests. So many ideas started filling my mind... I quickly found a local gym as I remembered how I used to love working out. Then I discovered a woman's' divorce recovery group that met every week. Wow, I was taken aback by all these new and exciting things. For the first time in almost a year, I felt alive again... Hopeful. Encouraged. It was just what I needed.
Not long after, I decided to re-visit my High School class' web site. Curious about how some of my old friends were doing, I was delighted to see a section containing all the e-mail addresses of my fellow classmates. It felt refreshing for some reason... like I had to re-visit my roots in order to rebuild my existence. Soon, I was sending dozens of messages to several of my old friends telling them of my life, and asking how they were. I felt a bit sad considering that my ex-husband basically drove most of my friends away after we married. He was always insanely jealous for some reason, even of my closest girlfriends. It was a closely guarded secret that I never expressed during our marriage as to how sad I was losing touch with all of my cherished schoolmates.
A few days later, the replies were beginning to flood back in. Amazingly enough, I found myself waking up with gusto; something that I was wasn't in the habit of before. Everyone was delighted to have heard from me, and wanted to know more about my life and how I was doing. I glowed in the wonderful, friendly expressions that came from over twelve of my dearest girlfriends. Soon, all of us were exchanging phone numbers and spending hours upon hours of re-establishing our camaraderie. It was just what I needed to crawl back out of this Hell I was bound in.
On the following Saturday, I woke up to see a reply to my initial message sent out over a week before from Cindi, my most beloved friend since 6th grade. I had come to the conclusion that she never received my first message, and just considered it a dead end. Yet there it was, an immense, exhilarated message that burst at the seams in joy that her old friend Kristen had written to her. She had included her phone number along with it, and since our friendship deserved more than a e-mailed reply, I quickly called her to say Hi. It was incredible to hear her voice again! That sassy, yet confident voice that I always loved to hear was now speaking with me, and I couldn't have been happier. We must have talked for at least two hours that day before she said she had to go. Another time was arranged when we could talk again, which was later that night. I spent the rest of the evening replying to my e-mails when her call came back around 8pm. Just as she always was, she brought many smiles and laughs to my battered soul. We tackled every topic there was considering we had close to fourteen years to catch up on. I told her of my recent divorce, and how I was trying to cope with it. She spoke of her exciting life out west in Nevada; how she found herself out there and was truly happy. Later, I asked her point blank...
"How did you do it, Cyn? I mean, what makes you so happy.?" I innocently asked.
"You wouldn't understand it, Kris." She replied. "It's not what a lot of people really think could be rewarding."
Acknowledging her meaning, I simply went on to another topic. Yet somehow I knew in her voice there was something far more involved. In school, whenever Cindi was deeply passionate about something, she always got this serious tone in her voice. Just like when we ran together at the Cross Country finals at the State competition; she made up her mind to do the best she could, and win that trophy. Needless to say, she did. And now I heard those same inflections in her voice... that determined, assured tone of conclusiveness and vigor. She never ceased to amaze me in that respect.
In the days that followed, Cindi and I spent nearly every night on the phone. More of the heartbreaking details about the divorce came out as did my depressed state of mind. It felt wonderful to confide in her after all these years, and our foundation of trust was firmly re-established once more. She listened to my cries hour after hour, offering her support and kind hearted tenderness to her wounded friend.
